03-24-2024, 11:53 PM
i can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland,
my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now i’m covered in you
my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now i’m covered in you
Her smile falters a little when she reads between the lines of the words that he says — that he’s had happier nights, meaning that this is not a good one, and things are likely not well. “I’m sorry,” she offers sympathetically, though she is unsure how much right she has to pry any further. While she naturally wants to consider him a friend, she recognizes that they hardly know each other, and that perhaps he does not want to relinquish his troubles to a virtual stranger.
She is accustomed to being that, though — a familiar face but not close enough to be a friend. The place to go for a smile or a kind word but not trusted with anything beyond surface level.
But it does not stop her from trying.
She wants to step closer to him, but there is something that keeps her rooted where she stands, an invisible barrier that she knows she should not push. “Is everything alright?” she ventures to ask, her brow furrowed just slightly with worry. “Maybe I can help,” she offers with a dim kind of hope. She knows she is likely not of much use; she is not especially intelligent or strong, and has no kind of magic that is truly useful. Just a pair of pretty wings and a light that follows her wherever she goes.
He diverts the topic to her and she lets him, though she still studies him carefully for what feels like a long moment before answering, “I’ve been fine, I suppose. Just a little…” she trails off, unsure what to say. Lonely didn’t feel right; lonely, to her, implied that she had something to miss, when in reality she didn’t. She had never had anyone or anything, nothing that was a constant. It didn’t feel possible to miss something you’d never had. “...quiet,” is what she settles on, since it is not a lie. Her life is quiet, if not a bit empty.
She is accustomed to being that, though — a familiar face but not close enough to be a friend. The place to go for a smile or a kind word but not trusted with anything beyond surface level.
But it does not stop her from trying.
She wants to step closer to him, but there is something that keeps her rooted where she stands, an invisible barrier that she knows she should not push. “Is everything alright?” she ventures to ask, her brow furrowed just slightly with worry. “Maybe I can help,” she offers with a dim kind of hope. She knows she is likely not of much use; she is not especially intelligent or strong, and has no kind of magic that is truly useful. Just a pair of pretty wings and a light that follows her wherever she goes.
He diverts the topic to her and she lets him, though she still studies him carefully for what feels like a long moment before answering, “I’ve been fine, I suppose. Just a little…” she trails off, unsure what to say. Lonely didn’t feel right; lonely, to her, implied that she had something to miss, when in reality she didn’t. She had never had anyone or anything, nothing that was a constant. It didn’t feel possible to miss something you’d never had. “...quiet,” is what she settles on, since it is not a lie. Her life is quiet, if not a bit empty.
Allaire
@Nemeon